


His Dreamer

by WhyDontWeBegin



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brainy catches emotions, Canon Compliant, Canon Trans Character, F/M, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I actually know nothing about how Coluans work, I just wanted to write some soft hurt/comfort with dreamdox, Insecurities, Panic Attacks, Season 4 Spoilers, Spoilers for s5e1, Trans Female Character, no beta we just die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23041531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDontWeBegin/pseuds/WhyDontWeBegin
Summary: Brainy has a panic attack after awakening from a nightmare. Nia, naturally, comforts him.
Relationships: Querl Dox/Nia Nal
Kudos: 46





	His Dreamer

**Author's Note:**

> henlo I am but a smol cretcher, a little babby in this fandom.  
> that said! I've been tempted to attempt writing brainy because I thought it would be a fun challenge. instead, I wrote him having emotions. He might be a bit OOC. constructive criticism is welcomed :)  
> (I just love him dearly and want to protect him, and I've been feeling down lately, and as I catch up to the present in the series, having just hit season five... my baby boy. my son.)

Brainy woke with a start, his breath caught in his throat. His chest felt tight, his throat tighter, and the irrational part of his mind (the part that was dominating it, at the moment) could’ve sworn his heart was not beating in his chest. (Naturally, of course, it merely _seemed_ that way, especially considering he could hear his heartbeat pounding away in his ears.) A cold sweat covered his skin, hands trembling as they clutched the sheets. Brainy’s rational mind felt... distant, at best— out of touch, almost. _It was a nightmare. Just—just a nightmare._

Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to look. To check, find out if Nia was alright, or—

(Or if his dreams were true, though he knew, logically, that they were not. He found many things about this had proven to be illogical.)

Brainy felt bile at the back of his throat, burning, and swallowed hard, forcing it back down. No, no— Nia was just in the other room, she was fine, surely. Just working late. Again. (It was almost three in the morning, Brainy wasn’t surprised, but that didn’t mean he liked it. A flash of frustration as the train of thought slipped just out of his grasp.) There was no way someone, anyone could have come in and hurt her, hurt Dreamer, _his_ Dreamer without—

Ah. Wait. When, exactly, had he started to consider Nia to be ‘his’? Brainy tried, desperately, to latch onto that thought, ground himself with a single thing and push all these feelings he was floundering in into little boxes—

“Brainy? Are you— oh my God, hey, look at me!”

_Nia?_

Warm hands cupped his cheeks, and it was only then that he realized his vision was blurred with tears, and he tried to blink them away. Tried, and failed. Then he processed— actually processed— Nia’s touch.

Brainy flinched back. Nia’s concern only grew. He looked panicked, frantic, and she _hated_ that. The Coluan was, ordinarily, a calm and collected individual, even if he was socially awkward and a dork. (Kara had mentioned, once, offhandedly, how his eyes lit up when she was around. It was the little things that he couldn’t help, she’d found.) This was not any of that. Her mind went blank for a moment before it came to her all at once in startling clarity.

_Panic attack. He’s having a panic attack._

Brainy realized he was hyperventilating only when he started to feel lightheaded. The logical part of his mind recognized that it must’ve been a panic attack—alas, that was also the part of his mind that he was more than a little out-of-touch with at that exact moment. He wanted—he wasn’t sure, what he wanted, not really. He wanted it to _stop_ , he knew that, it was too much, there was _too much noise too much going on stop it stop it stOP IT—_

Brainy’s eyes squeezed shut as he bowed his head, away from Nia, if he didn’t touch her he couldn’t _hurt_ her, right? (But he wanted to. He wanted her to hold him until all this _noise_ went away. It was too much, too loud. Brainy wanted it to be _quiet_. He couldn’t think like this. He needed to be able to think.) He thought he heard her speak, but the noise of his own mind was too much, he couldn’t—

(Warm hands, gentle and hesitant at first, covering his own. He didn’t move, and they gently pried his from the sheets, her thumbs stroking across his knuckles.)

What if—

(Those hands, letting his go, only to move to his wrists, and then slowly up his arms to his elbows. She was careful, always so careful, not to push him.)

What if he _hurt_ her, or abandoned her, like on Shelley Island—

(He could hear her but the words didn’t process. It was a comfort all the same, white noise drawing him back from the recesses of his mind, pulling him away from the fear and the panic.)

He remembered what she said, when he’d admitted his fears. She told him that he hadn’t hurt her, even then.

(Her hands, on his shoulders, now. One moved back to his hand, pressing it against her chest, holding it there. Her thumb ran back and forth over his knuckles again, repetitive but oh-so-comforting. Brainy started calculating algebra, in some part of his mind. It was familiar, routine, comforting. Under his palm he could feel the steady beating of Nia’s heart.)

“That’s it, Querl, breathe with me,” Nia said softly. He heard her, now, the small tremor from worry as she spoke, voice otherwise calm and collected. “In and out.”

Querl tried to match his ragged breathing with hers. The hand that lingered on his shoulders gently trailed up to cup his cheek, wiping away some of his tears in the process. This time, he couldn’t help but lean into Nia’s touch.

(But still, the memory of how confused, worried, afraid, even betrayed Nia had been when he left her on Shelley Island was burned into his mind. The image of her from his dream, cold and dead in his arms, her blood on his hands and his face and his clothes, still so vivid—)

“Hey, hey, Querl, stay with me.” Her voice cut through the train of thought, pulling him back. Back to her, to where they were, when they were, her hand on his hand on her chest, her other hand cupping his cheek. Brainy realized, now, that she was in his lap, and tentatively opened his eyes. His heart rate had slowed considerably, though now his mind felt clouded and sluggish, and Querl felt drained.

But now, at least, it was quiet. He looked to Nia, and she hated how he looked almost like a scared animal, her heart clenching in her chest. “Hey,” she murmured. He looked back down, and almost immediately, she made the choice to let his hand go and scoot forward to pull him into her arms. Brainy went willingly, sagging against her, arms loosely winding around her waist.

Nia truly wished she had a better handle on her powers, then. Maybe if she did, she could help him with this. Help him—better. Make it so he didn’t _have_ night terrors, whatever they may have been about. (She knew, already, that she was in some. It wouldn’t shock her if some regarded his time in the Legion, or his ancestors. But she didn’t know much about it, and though he knew she would listen, Querl had never offered. But Nia knew it was difficult for him, even when disregarding the fact that he was from the 31st century.) Her fingers gently carded through sweat-damp hair as Querl hid his face against her shoulder, taking deep, shuddering breaths. “Are... you alright?”

A stupid question. Nia already knew the answer, and he knew she did. (That didn’t mean Brainy didn’t appreciate her asking, though. Quite the contrary, in fact.)

“... No. I am... tired,” he said after a moment, internally wincing at how hoarse his voice sounded. His eyes stung, and Querl just felt... so, so tired. So _drained_. Yet Nia’s steady presence, her arms around him, were a comfort. It felt... safe, and he closed his eyes again.

They stayed like that, for a little while, before Nia suggested she get changed and lay down with him. Brainy agreed, it _was_ logical, she needed rest and the both of them would be more comfortable that way. But still, he missed her warmth and her touch the moment she moved away. It felt cold, and empty, and _lonely_ all of a sudden, even knowing she was right there and it was only for a few minutes. (Those few minutes felt more like an eternity, lying there, wanting to think but finding that doing so was difficult, his mind sluggish and though his eyes closed, rest eluded him in any form.)

Querl felt the bed dip as Nia joined him, and she barely got the chance to offer before he’d turned onto his side to curl into her arms, releasing a breath with her there and with it feeling a little lighter. Suddenly, it was that much harder to stay awake, everything in him said he was safe, and he felt _so_ tired.

“Querl?” Brainy managed an inquisitive hum in reply, feeling Nia press a gentle kiss to his hairline. “Do you... need anything?”

He considered for, perhaps, half a second before shaking his head. This—this was enough. Being here, with her. If there was anything Querl needed, in that moment, it was Nia Nal herself. His Dreamer. (Again, he wondered when, exactly, he’d started thinking of her like that. As his. Querl found, now, that he didn’t care enough to figure it out.)

“... Thank you, Nia Nal.”

Querl fell asleep only seconds later, and she smiled. He had nothing to thank her for— nothing at all.


End file.
